


The Way We Get By

by orphan_account



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dirty Talk, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything changes the night Ryan's dad takes his brother's virginity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way We Get By

**Author's Note:**

> I should preface this by saying that this is **NOT A FAN FICTION** , but an original work that I posted at my [livejournal](http://neuroticnick.livejournal.com/44678.html) and am reposting here. However, my non-fandom writing is usually very dark and triggering, so please pay close attention to the tags if you're going to try it out.
> 
> Furthermore, this particular work is in first person and has to do with underage incest/sibling love. For some that's more of an advert than a warning, I guess...Oh well, here goes!

Mom knew about it of course. The first time he made me suck him off I was a little over Ben's age, maybe nine, I think. She hadn't known about it for a while. But then when he fucked me the first time and I screamed and she came running...Well, she had freaked out a little, but Dad put her in her place. He was always putting people in their place.  
  
I didn't like it when he made Ben start sucking him a few months before that night. Dad said it was because I was jealous and wanted his cock all to myself. It was actually because I didn't want Ben to have to go through everything I did. Just because I had to have a shitty childhood didn't mean he did too. Ben deserved so much better than that.  
  
The night everything started to go downhill, Dad was drunk. The four of us were in the living room watching TV—some stupid game show—when Dad sent Mom out of the room. She sighed and left. Dad sighed and rubbed his crotch.  
  
"Ryan."  
  
I got up from the floor and onto my knees in front of him automatically. I didn't know what he'd want tonight, but if he was drunk he'd almost definitely want to fuck me. I hoped he'd do it with me facing away from him. I didn't like looking at him and he never let me close my eyes. I always had to watch.  
  
My hands on his thighs always felt like too gentle a touch but it helped in the end. I had learned early on how to detect his impending orgasm based on the muscle spasms I could feel beneath my hands. I knew that once he started jerking his hips up he was close.  
  
I tried to use every trick I'd ever learned to make it fast. Maybe if I got him to come quickly he'd pass out into one of his drunken slumbers with his cock still out and snoring loudly. Maybe he wouldn't have to fuck me then. It was never fun when Dad fucked me drunk.  
  
His hand pet the back of my head in a gesture meant to comfort. "Good little cocksucker," he said. "Better than your mother, you know that?"  
  
I hummed a response, meaning Yes, I did know that. He'd said it before. Sometimes when the two of them got in arguments he'd throw it in her face like an insult.  
  
His thighs tightened and he was close. I could tell he was close. But then he yanked me off by the roots of my hair and pushed me away. I fell backwards onto the floor.  
  
"Go get it," he said gruffly.  
  
I shuffled to my feet and ran to my bedroom for the bottle. When I came back, he'd made Ben take his pants off.  
  
That's when I knew that night was going to be different.  
  
Ben was still only eight. He'd only sucked our father twice, the first time a few months before that night and the second time on my fourteenth birthday. I really hoped Dad would only make Ben touch himself while he watched. He was too young. Even I had been nine.  
  
"Go suck his cock, Ryan."  
  
A part of me relaxed. As I knelt in front of Ben, I tried to give him a reassuring smile. We'd done this before, plenty of times. Not in front of Dad, but late at night in our bed. Ben had wondered why Dad always made me do it to him and I told him that it felt good. He wanted to know how, so I showed him. Now every time he had a nightmare or was sad about kids at school, I'd cheer him up with my mouth. Those nights would probably be a bit tainted now that Dad was making us do it in front of him.  
  
Ben was skinny and his skin stretched tight over his protruding hipbones. I kissed one and looked up at him. "It'll be fine," I whispered. "Everything will be fine." He seemed to relax a bit and nodded. He trusted me. The truth was, I had no idea if everything would be fine or not.  
  
I could fit it all in my mouth, balls and everything. He really liked when his sack sat on my tongue and made little whimpering noises that he always tried to stifle. I tried not to let the noises or his hands gripping my shoulder turn me on. It was fine in bed where the blanket could hide my erection. If Dad saw, he'd get ideas.  
  
But Dad already had ideas. His words made my blood run cold and then boiling hot with rage. "Open him up."  
  
I pulled back and immediately began to protest. I'd risk getting hit, sure, but I couldn't let him do this to Ben.  
  
"He's too young, Dad, he'll bleed." At the mention of bleeding, Ben began to shake. I tried to soothe him with a hand on his thigh.  
  
"So be very, very thorough" was all Dad said. He finished off his beer and stood to get another. He didn't bother tucking his cock back in.  
  
As soon as he was out of earshot, Ben grabbed my shoulder again and looked at me with frightened eyes. "What's he gonna do, Ryan? I don't wanna bleed."  
  
"You won't. I'll...You know what he makes me do sometimes? With my fingers?" Ben nodded. "I'm going to do that to you, okay? It will feel a little weird and it will sort of hurt, but I'm going to try to be gentle."  
  
"But he makes you do that before he—"  
  
"I know. It'll be fine. You're really tight so he's probably going to come quickly. It'll be over before you know it." I felt my groin flare with intense interest as I imagined my own cock inside him. He  _was_  tight. What would it be like for that hole to clench around  _me_?  
  
I pushed the thought away. I would  _not_  be like my father. I could want, but I couldn't take. I wouldn't.  
  
I heard Dad's footsteps returning and urged Ben to turn around and get onto all fours. Pushing vivid images away suddenly became very hard with his ass exposed to me. I turned him so I could hide the bulge in my pants from Dad. I didn't even want to think about what would happen if he found out what this did to me.  
  
It only got harder—both the task, and me—as I worked. It didn't help that I had to spend a lot of time doing it just to make sure I didn't stretch too fast. I could tell Dad was getting impatient and tried to hurry up for both our sakes.  
  
"That's enough," he finally said when I'd pushed a fourth finger in. Ben kept trembling and I'd had to press soothing kisses to his skin to calm him. At Dad's voice it started up again. "C'mere, Ben."  
  
Ben stood on wobbly legs and shuffled over. I sat down cross-legged with my hands over my crotch. I knew Dad wanted me to watch. I wanted to watch.  
  
Ben crawled up onto his lap and Dad held him up the way he did me when I was his age and still small enough to be held. I tried to look away, or at least up at Ben's face to offer another smile, but I couldn't. Even when Ben cried out as Dad's cock entered him I couldn't make myself stop watching. It just went deeper and deeper into Ben's tiny body, stretching the rim until I was sure he'd break. I heard Ben sobbing but I still stared at the point of connection. I felt like I couldn't breathe and the inside of my thigh was already wet from the precome dripping out of my cock.  
  
"Ryan."  
  
I knew what Dad wanted. I wanted it too. I tried not to pull out of my pants too eagerly. I couldn't let him see how desperate I was to touch myself.  
  
When I looked up, Ben was bouncing up and down, his hands in fists on his knees. His face alone was enough to make me hesitate. Dad's hands were like claws around his stomach, forcing him in and out while his own hips thrust up. Everything probably hurt like hell, the hands, the fucking, and definitely the mind. I know when Dad first did it to me I felt like I'd been invaded. And now he was doing it to Ben.  
  
"Ryan!"  
  
I wrapped a hand around myself instantly but couldn't do much more than that. If I got off on watching this, wasn't that just as bad as doing it myself? That is what I wanted to do, after all.  
  
It wasn't as if I had a choice, though. I had to. It was terrible because I knew that when I enjoyed it so much, I couldn't blame Dad. I could only blame myself.  
  
I looked back to the point of connection and reluctantly let myself imagine as I started stroking. I'd never fucked anyone. Dad would certainly never let me fuck him and I didn't want to. In those same arguments with Mom, he'd threaten to make me fuck her, but that didn't appeal to me either. It was only when I started sucking Ben's cock late at night that I wondered what it'd be like with him. Would he make those same little whimpering noises? Would he get breathless like I did when Dad bent me over and slammed into me so hard I saw stars? What would it feel like being balls-deep inside his tight eight-year-old ass?  
  
I came before Dad did, but Dad wasn't far behind. He let go of Ben abruptly and curled his lips in that ugly way he always did when he came. All three of us sat catching our breath, Ben and I waiting for him to say we could go to bed.  
  
Ben was still crying silently, the tears streaming down his face and onto Dad's hairy thighs. Suddenly Dad pushed him and said, "Get off." I lunged forward and caught Ben before he fell to the floor. Dad's come leaked out of him onto my pants.  
  
"Get me a towel," Dad ordered with a wave towards the bathroom.  
  
I let go of Ben and went over to get his pants. I took him to bed and told him to wait there for me. Then I went and got Dad a towel.  
  
He wiped himself off quickly and threw it back at me. "Will there be anything else?" I asked like I did every time.  
  
"No. Go to bed."  
  
I turned to leave and was nearly out of the living room when he said, "He was a good fuck. If you were wondering." I froze. "Not as responsive as you. Didn't push back for more like you love to do. Bit like fucking a lifeless body, if you ask me. But oh, was he tight. Clenched around my cock like nothing else."  
  
It made me tremble with rage and he knew it. I could hear the smugness in his voice even with my back turned. I should have known I couldn't hide anything from him. He'd fucked all my secrets out of me already.  
  
I took a deep breath to calm myself before replying. "Good night."  
  
I rinsed the towel in the sink and went to clean up my brother.

**& &&&**

I don't know how to talk to girls. Actually, I don't know how to talk to anyone. My only friend is Ben. Which is quite sad when you think about it.  
  
But girls really liked talking to me back then. Or at least about me. Whenever I was at my locker, I'd see them staring my way and giggling and I had to wonder what they were saying. Were they saying "His daddy gave it to him really good last night" or "That's the weird kid that doesn't speak." Maybe they were just wondering if I took notes on the Industrial Revolution. I did.  
  
About a week after Dad fucked Ben the first time, a note appeared on my desk in biology.  _"Your name is Ryan, right?"_ I looked up to see who it was from and a girl with long hair the colour of chocolate smiled at me. She was two desks over and sitting by the window.  
  
The sun behind her made her sort of glow. She was actually very pretty. I would even go so far as to say beautiful.  
  
I wrote " _yes"_  below her curly handwriting and passed it while the teacher's back was turned. Not two minutes later there was a reply.  _"I'm Lily."_  
  
I didn't know what to say to that so I just wrote  _"Hi Lily. I like your hair."_  
  
I heard her laugh and wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. But I did like her hair, so why would it be wrong to tell her that?  
  
 _"Thank you. I like your hair too. And your eyes. Even though they look very sad. Why do you never smile?"_  
  
This was officially the longest conversation I'd ever had with a girl outside of group or paired assignments. There were a lot of pieces to address. She liked my hair even though it was black and uninteresting. I didn't really brush it, ever, just sort of let it stand up or hang down or do whatever it decided to do when I woke up in the morning. And she liked my eyes even though they "looked very sad." And then she'd asked why I never smile.  
  
I couldn't exactly tell her the truth about that.  
  
 _"School is boring. There's nothing to smile about."_  
  
 _"Don't you have any friends?"_  
  
 _"My brother."_  
  
 _"He doesn't count."_  
  
 _"Why not?"_  
  
 _"He just doesn't. I'll be your friend :)"_  
  
That day I gained and lost a friend in the span of one hour.  
  
After class Lily came up to me and said hello. She asked which class I had next and said she'd walk there with me. I asked why she was being nice and she said it was because she wondered what my face looked like when I smiled.  
  
"That's a very specific thing to wonder," I told her.  
  
"You intrigue me, Ryan," she replied and smiled herself. I intrigued her.  
  
"But why?"  
  
"You don't talk very much. To be honest I didn't think you  _could_  talk until Ms Razik called on you."  
  
"I don't have much to talk about."  
  
"That can't be true. What do you like to do for fun?"  
  
Suck my brother's cock. "Read."  
  
"What books do you read?"  
  
"I don't know." I shrugged and tried to think of the books I'd seen my mom reading. "Jane Austen books."  
  
She laughed and it sounded like chiming bells. "Ooh, a scholar. Are you in advanced English?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So am I. See, we have something in common already." She put her arm in mine and smiled up at me again. I wondered what it would be like to fuck her. I wondered what sort of face she made when she came.  
  
I asked. "Would you ever let me fuck you?"  
  
She halted, right in the middle of the hallway and I was forced to stop with her. I felt my stomach sink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.  
  
"What did you just say?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
She slapped me and I felt her nails tear open the skin on my cheek. She never talked to me again. I really did like her hair.  
  
I didn't usually cry, but that night I did. I'd never even really thought about having a friend besides Ben before, but in one day that single hope had risen and been crushed. Because I had said something so incredibly stupid that normal people would know better than to say.  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
"Yeah, Ben?"  
  
"Are you crying?"  
  
I thought I'd been doing a pretty good job of hiding it.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Ben's arm wrapped around me and I felt his face on my back. "It'll be okay." I had to chuckle a little because that's what I always said to him. It was odd but not unwelcome for him to be comforting me now.  
  
And then he said the other thing I always say when I'm comforting him. "Do you want me to suck your cock?"  
  
I couldn't breathe again. Yes, I very much wanted him to. I wanted to see his tiny mouth stretch around me. I wanted to see how deep he could take me before he started to gag. I was already starting to harden in my underwear.  
  
I knew it had taken a lot of courage for him to offer. If I didn't answer he'd think he had done something wrong or that I was offended. And if I said no, he might be offended himself. It was the perfect excuse to give in and I hated it.  
  
"Okay." He scooted away so I could roll onto my back and pull down my underwear. He pulled back the blanket and crawled between my legs. His face was so small next to my dick. His wide eyes were so innocent. It only made me harder.  
  
And then his little hand wrapped around me, giving it a few experimental strokes, and I gasped.  
  
He looked up at me and smiled. "I'll make you feel good, okay? Like you always make me feel good."  
  
I swallowed and nodded. My throat felt so tight I wasn't sure my voice would work.  
  
It was everything I imagined and more. He'd taken most of Dad so I knew he could take me. I felt a bittersweet pride watching him go down on me. Was he good at this because he'd seen me do it so many times or because I'd done it to him so often? I didn't want his skill to be the result of Dad's actions. I didn't want to be like my father.  
  
Ben's eyes seemed to smile. He picked up my hands and placed them on top of his head. I knew it was his way of telling me that this was fine, that he wanted to do this for me. And I liked that he wanted to do this for me. Still, it didn't make me feel any less guilty.  
  
He couldn't fit all of me in his mouth like I could, but he did pull off and lick behind my balls. My whole body shuddered and I had to bite my lip to keep from making a noise. I'd always been vocal. It's what Dad liked best about me.  
  
Ben caught on about my balls and kept massaging them with his hand when he returned my cock. I felt the hot tension building and tried to give Ben some warning with my hands in his hair. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked faster, harder.  
  
"Ben," I gasped. "Oh God, Ben, I'm going to—nnnngh!"  
  
He made a choked noise but stubbornly kept his mouth on me. I moaned again when I felt his tongue dart out to lick up the excess semen dripping from the tip.  
  
"Do you feel better?" he asked.  
  
I didn't remember closing my eyes but I opened them and looked down at him. His lips were swollen red and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to kiss them.  
  
"Yes. Thank you."  
  
He grinned and crawled back to lay beside me. "That's good." I pulled my underwear up and put the blanket back over us. "My throat feels weird," he said.  
  
"Do you want me to get you a drink?"  
  
"No! I mean. No. Dad might hear."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Ben shook his head. "I wanted to know what it tasted like. Dad never made me do that." His brow furrowed before he continued. "When will that happen to me?"  
  
When would Ben start coming for real, not just semenless climaxing? When would I be able to return the favour?  
  
"I don't know. I was twelve the first time it happened. Maybe then," I told him.  
  
"Does it hurt?"  
  
I laughed. "No. It's sort of like...like peeing except it's not pee. Like you're shooting liquid fire."  
  
"It burns?"  
  
"No, no. It's hot but...it's a nice hot. Like when you drink hot cocoa in winter and it feels nice going down your throat. It's soothing. Sort of like that. Only much more intense."  
  
"Oh. That sounds cool."  
  
I closed my eyes and was almost asleep when Ben spoke again.  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Are you asleep?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"Why were you crying?"  
  
I blinked my eyes open. Ben's face was still only inches from mine on the pillow where it'd been last. And yet it seemed like it was so much closer. His brow was furrowed again and his lips pouting with concern.  
  
"I said something to someone that I didn't mean to say. She got really angry and hurt me."  
  
Ben reached out to take my cheek and my heart threatened to jump right out of my chest. Nobody ever touched my face. This touch was innocent and yet more intimate than anything I'd ever experienced. I had to fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him again.  
  
"Is that how you got these scratches?"  
  
I nodded. "Yeah."  
  
"But you're okay now, right?"  
  
I smiled. Ben was the only one that ever got to see me smile. "Yeah. Go to sleep. We have school tomorrow."  
  
"Okay." He rolled over and wriggled back to curl up into my chest. He wasn't satisfied until I rested my chin on top of his brown curls. "Night, Ryan."  
  
Even though it's pretty sad that Ben is still my only friend, I figure he's all I'll ever really need.

**& &&&**

Ben was the only one to ask about the scratches on my face. Mom noticed them but didn't say anything. She probably figured it was from some time when Dad was being a bit rough. It happened.  
  
But Dad could be gentle too. That's what made it so hard to hate him sometimes. There were moments when he'd give me this fond look while he was fucking me that I didn't know what to make of. Maybe there  _was_  some reason why he did what he did. I never asked. I always just assumed he enjoyed it.  
  
The Friday after I made and lost a friend was one of those times. I'd just walked in from school and set my backpack down when Dad called me into the living room.  
  
"Yes, Dad?"  
  
He was sitting on the sofa with just sweatpants on. He patted the space beside him. "Come here."  
  
His voice had that quiet quality to it that he always got when he'd been thinking a while. I knew he wanted me. It was evident from the bulge in his sweatpants and the way he followed me with his eyes. The TV wasn't on and the bottle of lubricant was already on the coffee table. He'd been waiting for me.  
  
I sat down next to him and he ruffled my hair, smiling. "My boy," he said affectionately. "Do you remember when I took your brother's virginity two weeks ago?"  
  
I generally tried not to. "Yes."  
  
"It made me realise something. We've been having fun a long time, haven't we? Five years. And you've grown so much since then. You've learned so much." His hand moved down to my thigh. "I feel like I've had the privilege to witness something beautiful. To watch you grow into a young man and know I've had a hand in it. And the same thing will happen with your brother. Together you'll become a masterpiece of my creating."  
  
I didn't really understand but it felt like he was saying he was proud of me. I turned and put on my best smile. "Thank you, Dad."  
  
"Now, stand up and let me see my beautiful piece of art."  
  
I got to my feet and pulled my shirt over my head. His hands ran up and down my chest and made my nipples harden. I waited until he nodded to start unzipping my jeans and kicking off my shoes. He helped pull my boxers down and I stepped out of those as well. Beneath my feet my pile of clothes was still warm.  
  
"Beautiful," he said again and his approval washed over me like a warm wave. I liked these times when he was nice, even if it did make it hard to hate him when he switched back.  
  
My cock was already filling with anticipation. I didn't hate what he did to me, I only hated how. I didn't mind being fucked—I loved it, actually—I only hated that it was him who did it. But not in these moments. Not when he seemed like a person capable of love. Maybe when Ben was older...  
  
I pushed the thought away. I had to focus on Dad now and giving him what he wanted. He only stayed nice as long as I satisfied him and did as he asked. He could flip back in an instant if I wasn't careful, and I wanted to make the best of this time.  
  
He rapped his knuckles on the coffee table and picked up the bottle. "Hands here." My stomach fluttered as I turned and bent over to put my hands flat on the table. He rarely opened me himself. He must have been in a very good mood.  
  
Being under his touch also meant him rubbing what he called my "come-spot" because it always made me come. I looked it up online. The actual name for it is much more medical.  
  
It was this spot inside me that he loved to abuse every time he stretched me himself. I was lucky if his cock managed to find it when he fucked me. It always made me shudder and moan and try to push back for more even though when he switched back to his normal self he'd remind me of it and call me a greedy whore. I didn't care much because I'd take this pleasure at the expense of being called a simple name any day.  
  
He did it that day but not enough to finish me. He took his fingers out and I felt so terribly empty that I didn't wait for him to tell me to turn around, I just did and straddled him so eagerly that he laughed.  
  
"Wait, Ryan," he chided. He poured more lubricant on his hand and stroked his cock enough to get it shiny and slick. "Alright, go ahead."  
  
Usually when he fucked me I had to imagine it was someone else, like Ben or a cute boy at school. Times like this, I didn't have to. Dad wasn't ugly by any means—he was fit and still had most of his hair, which wasn't always common for men in their forties. He had strong hands that could be claws like they had with my brother or could guide reassuringly like when he slid inside me that day. He was muscular, only getting a bit of a belly then because of age and drink, and his arms could strangle or they could protect.  
  
Maybe I  _was_  a little too responsive, as he'd said I was two weeks before. Maybe I  _had_  liked it too much and pushed back enough to give him the wrong idea. But I was making the best of a bad situation. If I couldn't avoid it, I might as well try to enjoy it.  
  
He loved to see me bouncing on his cock. He liked when I had to do work to make myself feel good, so that it was less of him fucking me and more me using his body to fuck myself. I only pieced this information together from the many times he'd grunted "Yeah, take it, Ryan," until it finally clicked.  
  
He never explicitly told me to be vocal but I'd seen him watch enough porn to know he liked it. So when I first started doing it when I was younger and he responded well, I just kept doing it. It was like second nature to moan and whine for him and tell him to fuck me harder.  
  
I clutched his shoulders for leverage, leaned back, and rolled my hips as I lifted myself up and let gravity pull me back down. "Oh God Dad, you feel...feel so good...faster...please, faster, I'm so close..."  
  
"Yeah, look at you, look at my beautiful work of art." His hands squeezed my ass and I moaned for him. "Fuck, Ryan, you're perfect, everything I ever wanted in a son."  
  
The compliment made my chest swell with pride. He'd never said anything like that before. Not in the heat of sex, not ever. So I leaned forward and put my arms around his neck, bringing our chests together in a close embrace. His broad hands came up to rest flat on my back and pressed our bodies even closer.  
  
My cock between us was getting the perfect amount of friction and the hair on his stomach added just the right dash of roughness. A few more well-placed thrusts and a couple more rolls of my hips and I exploded with an "Ah, yes!"  
  
Dad was close too. His movements had become frantic, his hands on me just a little too tight. He didn't tolerate me and Ben swearing. He said it was disrespectful to curse in his presence. But I'd found out the one exception to the rule, the one time he let me use bad language.  
  
It never failed to push him over. He loved it. My head was already buried in his neck so all I had to do was tilt my face up to whisper in his ear.  
  
"Fuck me Daddy." He came instantly. And because he never used condoms with us, I could feel just how hard he'd come when it shot up into me.  
  
My dad never said he loved me, but sometimes he held me like he did. It made it hard to hate him.

**& &&&**

Dad was in a good mood the rest of the day, which meant everyone else was too. Since it was Friday, Ben and I got to stay up late and because of what happened earlier, I didn't have to worry about Dad making a move on him. Ben and I played cards on the floor while Mom and Dad watched a movie in the living room.  
  
Near the end of the film, the music changed when the badass military guy saved the day and kissed the girl. Ben turned to watch and I took the chance to put down an extra card.  
  
Ben caught the movement in the corner of his eye though. "Hey! No cheating!" I laughed and took the card back.  
  
It was almost one in the morning when Dad finally sent us to bed. Neither me nor Ben would were tired yet, but nobody disobeyed Dad, not even Mom. So we kept the light turned out but stayed up playing cards on the bed.  
  
"Will you teach me how to do that?" Ben asked when I made a bridge to shuffle the deck.  
  
"Not tonight."  
  
We kept playing and then Ben asked another question. "How old is Dad?"  
  
"Forty-one. Why?"  
  
"I had to do a project at school today about my family but I didn't know what to put. How old is Mom?"  
  
I frowned. "Thirty-eight. What was the project about?"  
  
"It was in art class and we had to draw our family and add cut-out pictures to it. It was a...college."  
  
"A collage?"  
  
"Yeah. We had to cut things out of magazines and newspapers and stuff and paste them to our family drawings to show the things we liked to do together."  
  
"You didn't—"  
  
"No. I put a picture of a television and water bottles."  
  
"Water bottles?"  
  
Ben shrugged. "I didn't want to lie completely. It was the closest thing I could find to that little green bottle Dad uses to...you know. So I just sort of bended the truth. I put a picture of a water bottle and said that we drink a lot of water because we're really healthy."  
  
I laughed so loud I had to put a hand over my mouth. Leave it to Ben to be clever like that.  
  
"I couldn't really think of anything else, but nobody else finished either. I have to finish it on Monday."  
  
"Want me to help you think of things?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
I leaned back on my hands and thought a while. He mirrored my position, down to the pursed lips and everything.  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Hmm," he echoed.  
  
My eyes fell to the cards and I snapped my fingers. "How about a card? It's not a cut-out but it'll work, right?"  
  
Ben's eyes lit up like that was the best idea ever. "Yeah! But which one? Don't we need all of them?"  
  
I felt around the bed for the box and found it by Ben's foot. "Nope. We never use the jokers. You can take that one."  
  
I took out a joker and held it out to him but he shook his head. "Don't give it to me now. I might lose it. We'll keep it in there until Sunday night then I'll put it in my backpack."  
  
That was Ben, always thinking ahead. "Alright." I put it back in the box. "Want to play one more game before we call it a night?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
I shuffled the deck again and was dealing the cards out when Ben asked another question. This one made every nerve in body switch to high-alert.  
  
"Have you ever kissed anyone?"  
  
I dropped the card in my hand onto the pile in front of Ben. "No."  
  
"Not even Dad?"  
  
I shook my head. "Things aren't like that between us." When he opened his mouth again, I cut him off. "It's hard to explain. I'll tell you when you're older." I hoped by then he would understand just how things were and I wouldn't have to explain anything.  
  
"Does Dad ever kiss Mom?"  
  
"Sometimes." I shrugged. "He used to do it a lot more before you were born. Probably even more than that before I was born. Mom used to be really...different."  
  
"Did she smile a lot? She's always smiling in pictures."  
  
"Everyone smiles in pictures, Ben. But yeah, she smiled more. I don't feel like talking about it, okay? Let's just play this last game and go to sleep."  
  
Ben fell back onto the bed. "I don't wanna play anymore."  
  
I sighed and dropped the rest of the cards. "What do you wanna do then? Go to sleep?"  
  
"No." He was quiet while he thought. "Does Dad love Mom?"  
  
I sighed. "What's with all the questions, Ben?"  
  
He didn't look at me when he answered. "In the movies when people kiss they always say they love each other. So if Dad kisses Mom he has to love her, right?"  
  
So that's what it was about, the end of that stupid movie we'd seen earlier. "It's hard to explain," I said again.  
  
This time he did raise his head. "What is love, exactly?"  
  
"Exactly?" I shook my head, chuckling. "Love isn't anything  _exactly_ , Ben. It's more like a concept. An idea."  
  
"Well then, what's the idea?"  
  
I tried to think how to best explain a concept even I didn't really know anything about. To an eight-year-old.  
  
"Love is like..."  
  
Ben tried to help. "When you really really care about someone?"  
  
"Sort of. Add a few more really's."  
  
"When you really really really _really_  care about someone?"  
  
I smiled. "Yeah. But also like...you'll do stuff for them. You'll make sacrifices so they can be happy and—"  
  
"What's a sacrifice?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "It's when you give up something you like or do something you don't wanna do."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So you'll make sacrifices for them and...sometimes, like in the movies, you'll go so far as to die for them, just so they can keep living. Because you want the best for them even if it means you have to suffer."  
  
"Love sounds horrible."  
  
"That's not all." I tried to think. "It's also like...when you're around them, you feel happy. Like all warm inside, like everything's just how it's supposed to be. And you don't want to ever be without them because when they're gone you feel like part of you is missing. And you don't even have to kiss to show them how much you care, sometimes just holding them or being held by them is enough because their arms are safe and warm and you never want to let go—"  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
I had started to cry. I so rarely cried, had gone years without shedding a single tear, and then in the same month, I'd cried twice.  
  
I think I probably just wanted someone to love me. When I was Ben's age I thought I loved my dad and that he loved me, but I didn't have anyone to explain that that wasn't the case like I had to Ben. And then I started to love Ben but I couldn't act on that love because it made me feel too much like Dad. I was stuck on a terrible lonely island where it felt like love could never reach me.  
  
I wiped my tears and sniffled and said "Sorry" and then Ben's arms were around me. The tears started all over again because I felt safe and warm and I never wanted him to let me go. I knew I was getting his neck wet but I didn't really care.  
  
Then he said, "It's okay, Ryan. I love you," and he kissed my cheek.  
  
I wanted to believe, but I pulled back and shook my head. "Don't say that when you don't even know what it means, Ben."  
  
"But you just told me what it means. And I do. I always feel safe when you hold me at night, and you always make me feel happy, and I haven't really made any sacrifices for you, but I would."  
  
I didn't know what to say to that. I knew what I wanted to say but didn't know if I could. Ben touched my cheek like he had a week ago, but this time it was more of a caress. I shuddered.  
  
"Don't you love me too, Ryan?"  
  
Just like when he'd asked to suck me off, he caught me again. I couldn't say no and I didn't want to.  
  
"Of course I do, Ben. I'll always love you."  
  
It was almost comical how his face smiled and then immediately frowned. "If you love me and I love you, then you should feel warm and happy, right? So why are you still crying?"  
  
"I..." I wiped my face. "Sorry. I'm not, really, it's just...my face is still wet."  
  
"Oh." He grinned again and this time it stayed. "That's good, then."  
  
He lowered his arms and started gathering up the cards. I figured that was the end of conversation for the night and he finally wanted to go to sleep. I got under the blanket while he finished putting things away.  
  
I had closed my eyes and my breathing had settled when I felt his lips on mine. My eyes snapped open just as he pulled away. Even in the dim moonlight I could tell he was blushing.  
  
"Did you not want me to do that?" he asked. His expression was somewhere between sheepish and worried.  
  
My breathing was not regular anymore. "No, I...I did. Want you to do that."  
  
He was relieved and his face inched closer to mine on the pillow until our noses touched. When he spoke I could feel his breath on my skin. "Can I do it again?"  
  
He looked so hopeful and eager that I couldn't stop myself. I felt like I'd been given permission, finally, to take what I wanted. It was easy to close the final distance between us. My hand found his waist and pulled him closer.  
  
When Ben's hand slid up the side of my neck and into my hair, I pushed away the thought that maybe I was going too fast, holding too tight. He parted his lips and I just knew it was an invitation. I plunged my tongue inside the same way we'd both seen people do in all those movies. I felt his own tongue slide beside mine and I felt his little teeth. He puckered his lips around my tongue and sucked and my throat made a little whimper that I couldn't hold back even if I tried.  
  
My head was reeling and I didn't know which way was up. So when Ben's hand in my hair moved down to my shoulder and pushed me on my back I had no idea what was going on. Not until he was straddling me and grinding his hips down on top of me. And I felt he was just as hard as I was.  
  
I got scared. This was too much too fast. I had only just kissed him. He had given me that much. But even if he did ask for more, I wasn't sure if I was ready to do that yet. I didn't want to risk losing control and taking more than was given.  
  
He didn't ask for more than what he took, though. He seemed to have learned quickly about kissing and once he was on top of me he pushed his tongue between my own lips. He didn't ask for me to fuck him, or to even touch him, he just swivelled his hips like he'd seen me do a thousand times and rubbed our cocks together through the thin fabric of our underwear.  
  
A thought in the back of my mind told me this was what fucking was supposed to be. It was what I had tried fruitlessly to get from Dad, sex between two people who loved each other. I felt like my heart exploded with warmth and was now pumping the new feelings of affection through my entire body. I knew on some weird mental level that Ben felt exactly the same. We had always been connected like that, but we would be even more so from that day on.  
  
I came first because I had wanted it for so much longer than he had, but I squeezed his ass and brought him closer so that he finished soon after. I didn't even get up to change my boxers. I didn't want to leave his arms.  
  
We didn't let Dad know about us because he'd only make us do things in front of him and it would ruin everything. We knew Mom didn't care though and wouldn't tell Dad so we weren't afraid to kiss in front of her.  
  
There were still days when Dad fucked one of us—usually me because I was better—and he still made us watch and get off on it, but now at night it was just us. I never asked to fuck Ben and he never offered. That was fine with me. I wanted to wait.  
  
We were as happy as we could be until two months after Ben lost his virginity. Dad was home early again and had been waiting for me, but he wasn't in one of his good moods like before. I could tell right away how it would go. He had figured out by then that I was louder for him when nobody else was home. I didn't care if Mom heard, but even before Ben told me he loved me I didn't like him seeing me reduced to the state I often lowered myself to for our father. It was worse now because he could get the wrong idea.  
  
"Get in here," I heard Dad say from the kitchen. I walked in and the bottle was already on the table in front of him and he was stroking his cock angrily.  
  
I dropped my backpack and started to undress. I got up on the table and placed myself on all fours with my ass right in front of him. Whenever we fucked in the kitchen he liked to see me open myself up on the table like a meal to be devoured.  
  
Since we were home alone I pretended to enjoy it more. I made soft moaning noises and sudden gasps as I pushed my fingers deeper. I didn't try to stop my body from shuddering when I scissored them and hit the right nerve.  
  
"That's enough. Get up."  
  
I climbed off the table and let him manoeuvre me how he wanted me. He wanted me with my hands on the wall while he slammed into me from behind.  
  
"Bend over more." I bent over more and tried not to let my arms give out under my weight.  
  
"Oh yeah, that's it," he sighed as he slid into me. "Been thinking about fucking you all day." That wasn't exactly new. He often thought about fucking me all day.  
  
He went fast and hard at first. So much so that my head kept hitting the wall and I had to turn so it would collide with my cheek, where it wouldn't hurt as much. Even so, I knew he'd caught me early for a reason so I pushed my ass back and met him on each forward thrust and gasped, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."  
  
But then, just when I was certain he was about to come, he slowed down. He dragged his cock out and pushed back in so slowly that my begging for more wasn't entirely feigned. He went deeper, held my hips tighter to keep me in place, and my whole body trembled with the effort it took not to take what I wanted so desperately.  
  
It felt like a torturous buildup that went on for hours. I finally gave in.  
  
"Dad, Dad, please!"  
  
"You want it, Ryan?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"You want it harder? You want it faster?"  
  
"Yes," I sobbed. " _Please_."  
  
He sped up just a little, but not enough. "Say it. Say what you know I love to hear."  
  
I didn't want to. Not like this.  
  
He slapped my ass hard enough to sting and it added to the tightening in my balls so much I felt winded. "Say it, Ryan."  
  
"Fu...Fuck me Daddy."  
  
He sped up more. "Again."  
  
"Fuck me Daddy."  
  
His fingernails dug into my skin and I knew he was close. I felt like I was going to come any second. My breathing was even louder than his and my moans echoed through the whole house. That's why I didn't hear the door open. That's why I didn't hear Ben's footsteps.  
  
I didn't even know he'd walked in to see us until Dad said something. "Ah, Ben. You're...you're just in time to see your brother come." I raised my head and saw Ben watching, one hand curled tightly around the strap of his backpack. His face was pale but he didn't look surprised or even blank like he usually did. He looked furious.  
  
"Ben, I'm—"  
  
 Dad slapped my ass again and I moaned before I could stop myself. "Say it again."  
  
Not in front of Ben. "Dad, please—"  
  
"Say it."  
  
I felt him lift his hand to slap me again and shouted before he could bring it back down. "Fuck me Daddy! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"  
  
"Oh yeah,  _fuck,_ " he grunted as he came. He thrust two more times and forced my own orgasm out of me. I squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn't have to see Ben's face. When Dad pulled out and I opened them, he was gone.  
  
Ben didn't speak to me the rest of the day. He slept with his back to me and if any part of me touched him he scooted away as if I was diseased. I didn't know what to say so I stayed silent and tried not to cry.  
  
I didn't know how long the silence would go on for, but Ben was never one to hold grudges and was always curious. The next night he flipped over and demanded an answer.  
  
"Do you like when Dad fucks you?"  
  
I gaped. "Wh-What? No. Sometimes. Not really. It's hard to—"  
  
"Don't tell me it's hard to explain. Yes or no."  
  
"But it  _is_  hard to explain. I sort of like it and I sort of don't."  
  
Ben sat up against the wall and crossed his arms. "Try then."  
  
I sighed and sat up, too. "I...I like the way it feels, but...I don't like that it's him that does it. Does that make sense?"  
  
Ben's face scrunched with thought. "You don't want Dad to fuck you, but you do want to be fucked?"  
  
I sagged relief that he understood. "Yes. Exactly."  
  
"So then why did it seem like you enjoyed it?"  
  
"Because that's what Dad likes. If I don't do what he likes he'll become intolerable. I mean angry."  
  
"I know what intolerable means."  
  
"Okay. Well, that's what he'll be. You know how sometimes he's in a good mood? Those times would never happen if I didn't keep him satisfied. He needs me to act for him, so I do. I don't like that I have to do it, but I do it anyways so the rest of us don't have to suffer."  
  
Ben's brow furrowed as he thought some more. And then all of a sudden his face cleared and he looked up at me with understanding. "You make sacrifices. Because you love us."  
  
"Yes." He looked back down and was quiet another short while. I asked tentatively, "So am I forgiven?"  
  
"Yeah, Ryan, you're forgiven. I just wish you didn't have to make so many sacrifices all the time."  
  
I wondered what I could possibly say to that. In the end I decided to confess something I knew would also make him happy. I ruffled his hair and said, "If it makes you feel better, I always imagine it's you fucking me."  
  
He smiled like I knew he would and jumped into my arms to kiss me. We were happy again for another month or so.

 

**& &&&**

There was something I forgot to mention about love when I explained it to Ben. It also makes us do things we wouldn't normally do. Terrible things.  
  
Mom and Dad were arguing again so I was distracting Ben with kisses. I felt him hard against my leg so I let my hand move to his underwear and slip beneath the hem. I squeezed just a little and he had tensed up when I heard Dad yell, "Where's my whore of a son?" I froze.  
  
I had barely pulled away from Ben when our door slammed open and he stormed in. "Of course. Should have known you'd be in here whoring yourself for your brother." He yanked the blanket away and the air was cold on my skin. "No need to be modest, whore. We all know what you are."  
  
I leapt from the bed and grabbed the fallen blanket. Ben tried to follow me but I gave him a look. He took the blanket from me and spread it back over the bed as I turned to Dad.  
  
He pushed me back on the mattress and Ben only just managed to scramble out of the way. Dad's huge thighs pinned me down and he started ripping my shirt off.  
  
I put my hands around his wrists and tried to pull them away just a bit, showing him that I wasn't resisting, only making a suggestion. "I-I'll come to you, okay Dad? Ben has to go to school tomorrow and...and we should let him sleep. And your bed is bigger so there's...there's more room to spread out. Okay?" I smiled up at him and he seemed to reconsider but he still hadn't moved. I trailed my hand down his front until it reached the bulge in his boxers and then I applied a teasing bit of pressure. "I'll be really good for you tonight, okay?"  
  
He grunted and got off of me. I exhaled in relief and stood up. "Don't keep me waiting," he snapped as he left our room.  
  
As soon as he was gone, Ben grabbed my arm. "Don't go, Ryan."  
  
I tried to peel him off and spoke gently. "I have to. It'll be fine."  
  
"Stop saying that. You always say it'll be fine and it never is."  
  
"Well, what do you want me to say? Look, just...Ben, please. I have to go or he'll get upset."  
  
As if on cue, Dad yelled from his bedroom. "Ryan!"  
  
I jumped out of Ben's grip and hurried for the bottle I kept on the dresser. "Just stay here and I'll be back before you know it."  
  
"But it's not fair! You're mine and...and I love you and he doesn't so why—"  
  
"Shh." I put a finger to his lips and then kissed him. "Close your eyes, cover your ears, and think about something nice, alright? I promise I'll be right back." I couldn't stay to hear what he had to say to that. I ran out of the room and shut the door behind me.  
  
"About fucking time," Dad mumbled when I hurried in. He was sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
I noticed the aftermath of their fight: thrown shoes, a cracked phone, a few broken pieces of glass. "Where'd Mom go?"  
  
"Probably outside crying again. I don't know. Strip and open yourself up. And be quick about it."  
  
I pulled my clothes off and climbed onto the bed beside him. I bit my lip against the pain and went straight to two fingers.  
  
He moved around until his cock was in front of my face. "Here. Might as well get it nice and wet while you work." I sunk my mouth onto him immediately and multitasked.  
  
I had told him I'd be good so when I was through stretching myself I pulled off his cock and kept my eyes locked on his as I sucked a nipple. I lowered my voice and leaned into him. "How do you want me, Daddy?"  
  
I hoped it would be from behind but of course it wasn't. "On your back." I lay back and propped myself up on my elbows with my legs wide open. He got onto his knees and slid in quickly.  
  
He didn't like that I wasn't hard. "Touch yourself," he ordered.  
  
I almost did, but I thought about what he would like. How could I be even more good for him?  
  
I touched his front again and let my fingers run through his chest hair. "It'll get there. You'll make me feel so good I won't even have to touch myself, won't you, Dad? I bet just your cock alone will make me so hard—"  
  
"Nnng, yeah." He gave a quick, hard thrust that left me breathless.  
  
"Don't you want to see that? I do. I wanna be able to keep my hands just here"—I lowered my hands to his waist—"and watch until I'm so stiff that I'm dripping."  
  
That seemed to please him and I exhaled. He started up a slow but forceful rhythm and I could tell he was already calming down from his fight with Mom. I kept my eyes fixed on his cock disappearing inside me, focused on the slide of it and how wonderful it would be if it was Ben. I imagined Ben just a few years older, his green eyes dark with lust and his skinny limbs turned into wiry muscle. I thought of his voice just an octave lower saying he loved me and kissing me while he fucked me. And thinking of that, I got hard.  
  
Dad noticed too. "Yeah, you love this cock, don't you? I've got your ass so trained to want it, I'm surprised it doesn't lubricate itself."  
  
I tightened my grip on Dad's waist and tried not to think about myself as being bred to be fucked. I just kept my eyes lowered so I wouldn't have to see his face and pretended he was Ben.  
  
I had promised Ben I'd be back quickly and realised it was taking too long. I didn't like the thought of him sitting up in our bed with his hands on his ears, crying. I decided to try and hurry it along like I always did.  
  
I let my arms fall and lay back so I could wrap my legs around Dad's waist instead. I raised my arms above my head and used them to push down so his cock went deeper each time. And when that felt good, I moaned.  
  
"Ah, ah yeah, don't...don't stop," I gasped. "Oh God, yeah, just like that, oh,  _oh_."  
  
He grabbed my thighs and bent me back onto my shoulders. His cock found my come-spot and I screamed. I hoped Ben hadn't heard it.  
  
He grinned triumphantly and hit it again. My toes curled and my body felt like a coil all wound up ready to spring.  
  
"My boy is filthy," Dad declared smugly.  
  
I tried to catch my breath but his cock was expelling more air than I could take in. "I'll...be even more filthy...when you make me come all over myself."  
  
That seemed to make him determined to finish me and he held my thighs tight enough to leave bruises as he started the last push towards the end. I wanted him to finish quickly too so I could get back to Ben and the warmth of our bed. I was going to urge him on with more words but then he hit my come-spot again and all I could do was scream and squeeze my eyes shut as I came.  
  
Occasionally I still have nightmares about what I saw when I opened my eyes. But for the most part they've gone away.  
  
There was a gash in Dad's throat from one side right across to the other. The longer I watched, the more blood dripped from the wound and down his chest. He was tilting forward and I panicked that he'd fall on top of me when suddenly he was pushed off to the side, his cock leaving me with him. And I saw Ben holding a knife.  
  
He was crying and shaking but his thin face looked more determined than I'd ever seen it. It was eerie because his small voice was the same as it had always been.  
  
"I didn't want you to have to make any more sacrifices."  
  
We didn't go to school the next day. Mom didn't come back that night so I made the decision myself. Mostly because we had to spend the whole night digging in the cellar.  
  
When the hole was so deep Ben risked not being able to get out again, I sent him to put the bed sheets and things in the wash. He was still doing it when I pushed Dad's body in the ground and started covering it back up. I yelled up the stairs for Ben to get nails on his way back. We put the floorboards back down and nailed them into place.  
  
We were sitting in the bathtub when Mom came back. I think she might have taken a day off from work just like we took a day off from school. She asked us where Dad was and what happened. When we told her, she said we had to move.

 

**& &&&**

Sometimes Ben still scares me. It's been ten years and I don't think he ever had a single nightmare about what he did. I almost didn't go to university because I didn't want to leave him alone. I couldn't have gone anyways because we didn't have enough money. When I got a scholarship, he told me to go. He said he didn't want me to make any more sacrifices for him. So I went.  
  
I didn't stay for long, mostly because I didn't know what I wanted to do. I didn't sleep very well because it felt too empty sleeping in a bed alone. I missed Ben. There was nothing for me at university. So after a year, I went home.  
  
Mom kicked us out a few months ago, after Ben graduated high school. Together we had enough money saved up to get an apartment and Ben got a job at the theatre while I kept working at the grocery. A lot of people think our life is dull and boring, and we only make enough money to get by, but we have each other and there's not much more we want besides that. As long as we're happy, we're fine.  
  
Whenever we fuck, Ben says he loves me. Sometimes he says that he'll do anything for me. I smile and say that I know. What I don't say is that I know better than anyone else.


End file.
